Words
by Katato2013
Summary: AU ONESHOT A stranger's words hold possibilities that a soldier is not so unwilling to explore...


**Author's Note: **Hey minna-san! So, I decided to write another RK fic! This will be my second ever. Whoa! Crazy! Anyway, I'd been thinking about writing a fic set in the 1920s or during WW2, because I don't think there are that many in those time periods floating around out there. I settled on WW2 because after some short but very careful deliberation, I realized that I know a whole lot more about WW2 than the '20s (which isn't really a lot anyway...).

So, if you know butt-loads about the time, and I got something horrendously wrong, you should definitely let me know. :) I'll do my best to get it right the first time though!

Also! I'm writing this on my new netbook, and I don't have Word yet. I have to use WordPad, so please excuse any mistakes, spelling or otherwise.

This was inspired by copious viewings of _Casablanca_ for an English project and the song "Hubba Hubba Hubba (Dig You Later)" by Perry Como.

wWw

Kenshin was sitting perilously on a rickety barstool in a drab bar somewhere in Paris. His elbows were resting on the bar, his chin in one hand while the other swirled some type of watery alcohol in a chipped tumbler.

The victory celebrations were winding down all over the city, and probably the rest of the Allied world as well. Earlier that day the news had been released that Japan had surrendered, finally ending the second Great War.

Kenshin had resolved to enjoy the parties and immerse himself in the merry-making, but he could only take so much before he had to break away from Sano and the other men. He had wandered around Paris for the better part of the night, not really paying attention to where he was or what was happening around him. There was one moment of clarity, however, that Kenshin couldn't help but replay in his mind.

. . .

It had been sometime when he was in a bar that was still bursting with the sounds of celebration: loud big band music interspersed with groups of the inebriated belting La Marseillaise and The Star Spangled Banner, and toasts to the leaders of the Allies.

Kenshin had been lucid enough to appreciate the exquisite wine he'd been served, and the fact that it was on the house in light of the triumph of the Americans against Japan. He brought the glass up to his lips for another sip as in the background a bell jangled cheerfully, announcing the entrance of another party-goer. Kenshin caught a wisp of a delicious smell that couldn't be mistaken for alcohol... Jasmine, he thought. Must be the entrance of a real lady. But why one who could afford such expensive smelling perfume would visit _this _joint was beyond him.

"May I sit here?"

A lovely young woman with long jet-black hair pulled into a ponytail and stunning blue eyes was standing across from him, one hand on the empty chair at his table and the other holding a glass and a large bottle of champagne. She was gazing at Kenshin with a slightly hopeful look on her face, leaving no doubt as to who had asked the question. There was only one option for Kenshin at this point.

"Why of course!" he replied, and stood up respectfully. He may have been a soldier for four years, but he hadn't forgotten his manners. The woman sat down, quickly followed by Kenshin, who had realized she was the owner of the jasmine perfume.

"Thanks a million. I wanna sit and drink some bubbly, not tear down the place like those other folks," she said as she poured herself a generous serving from her bottle and took a sip. "Look at us!" she suddenly cried. "We're probably the only two Americans in the whole world who aren't goin' crazy! What's your story, huh? Why're you sittin' here all alone in a corner?" Kenshin decided that she was either drunk or from New Jersey.

"Well," he responded, "I just don't feel like celebrating."

"Hmph. That isn't much of an answer you know."

Kenshin just smiled sadly and took another sip of his wine. The two strangers fell into a comfortable silence as they each drank from their respective cups. The woman was gazing at Kenshin and occasionally drummed her fingernails on the tabletop.

"Hey Red."

Kenshin's violet eyes snapped up to the woman's. "Yes?" he asked warily.

"You shouldn't beat yourself up about it. It is—was—a war. People are killed in wars."

His eyes widened considerably in surprise. He was amazed that she had pinpointed the exact reason he was so unhappy on such a joyful day.

He took another sip of wine to give himself time to think of a suitable response. "They didn't have to die… I didn't have to kill them…" he said. He felt the black despair closing in on his soul, wrapping its writhing appendages around his mind.

The woman sighed heavily. "Look, pal. It might sicken you, what you did, but it's a whole lot better than what they did to the people in the camps. We might not like it, but sometimes the end justifies the means. You shouldn't think about what you helped destroy, but what you helped create."

Kenshin stared at her and breathed in the smell of jasmine.

. . .

The mysterious woman had left soon thereafter, in much the same manner as she had arrived, with a characteristic "Catch ya later," and a jaunty wave. She came back a few minutes later, pointed her worryingly empty champagne bottle at him and saying forcefully, "You better think long and hard about what I said Red! Otherwise I'll have to beat some sense into you!" before she disappeared for good.

Or so he thought.

Kenshin had left the bar soon after the woman, and proceeded to wander to different bars that served increasingly nauseating liquor. It got later and later, but Kenshin pretended that he was looking for proper drinks and not for the woman with the beautiful eyes.

So it had gone, until he had given up and decided to get outrageously drunk in the hopes that he would forget all about her and her eyes and her words.

He didn't want to forgive himself. It couldn't be allowed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could hear the screams of fallen men, the roar of gunfire and explosions. He could feel the dirt under his fingernails and the mud that oozed into everything, ruining food and clothing. The bitter taste of his own unbrushed mouth, the smell of hundreds of rank men, the moaning, the pain, the exhaustion, the fear, the blood, the hopelessness…

He couldn't forget the war, couldn't sleep for the nightmares, couldn't eat for the pain that would clench his stomach. All he could do was drink, but even that was beginning to taste like blood.

The words of the woman had opened his mind to possibilities he didn't think he was ready for, questions he was afraid to answer.

Could he be forgiven?

She obviously thought so.

And for a moment, he had wanted that feeling; that weightlessness of his heart. But she was gone, she had rejoined the revelry of Paris and had probably forgotten all about him.

"Well, howdy, stranger!" cried a soft voice from behind him. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere. Why, I was just thinking about you. Have you thought about what I said?"

Blue-eyes was back. She hoisted herself onto the neighboring barstool and called to the bartender for a glass of red wine. The woman cradled her head in her hand and angled her body towards Kenshin. "Well?" she asked.

Kenshin had to fight to keep an enormous grin from spreading across his face. "I've been looking for you," he said instead.

"Oh really?" she replied, and accepted her glass from the barkeep.

"You know, I used to believe that fate was uncontrollable. That we can't stop things that are supposed to happen."

The woman nodded her head and sipped from her glass, urging him to continue.

"Well, in all the bars in all the towns in all the world, you walk into the one I'm in." he finished. A smile slowly curved around the woman's face, making her all the more lovely. "I think I know what you mean," she answered. Suddenly she whipped her wrist in front of her face. "Aw shucks! I gotta meet my friends in ten minutes on Rue Heloise! I hafta say goodbye to you." The woman quickly dropped some change on the counter and gathered herself, standing up.

"By the way, my name's Kaoru Kamiya." She said.

"Kenshin Himura."

"Well, I'll see you later in the USA, Mr. Himura."

And with that, Kaoru Kamiya flashed Kenshin Himura a dazzling smile and traipsed out of the bar, and Kenshin Himura smirked to himself whilst thinking about all of the delightful possibilities that awaited him in America.

wWw

**Author's Note:** So there ya'll go! I churned this baby out in a record two days. And yes, some lines are extremely similar to_ Casablanca_ and "Hubba Hubba Hubba". I felt the need to include them. I am also aware that "Red" is an incredibly uncreative nickname for Kenshin, but my brainstorming was not very effective: the only alternatives I could think of were fruit, and I felt "Strawberry" was worse than "Red".

**Probably Unnecessary But Possibly Still Helpful Glossary: **Just in case.

_La Marseillaise_: The French national anthem.

_The Star Spangled Banner_: The American national anthem.

_Allies_: America, Britain, France, and others.

Please drop me a review!


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